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“Ahh,” she startled, turning around, and lifting her arms up as if she were prepared to fight whoever she came across.
I held up my hands. “It’s just me.”
She recognized me a second later and her shoulders sagged, hands flattened over her chest.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
I winced and headed for the pantry. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. I tried calling your name.”
Faith plucked the earbuds out. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t help having these in. I’m surprised you're awake.”
Willow went over to Faith and smothered her with kisses.
I got out a jar of peanut butter. “Want a sandwich?”
Faith beamed at me. “Yes, please.”
Faith stood from her place at the round table and hopped up onto the counter, feet dangling. “Were you still working?”
I slathered on a thick layer of peanut butter on two slices of bread. “I was. Got a little caught up in things.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
I glanced at her, sitting there in her pajamas, wearing a light pink silk robe, tied tightly around her waist. She’d piled her hair up in a messy bun and a few rogue strays framed her face.
“It happens all the time,” I admitted.
“I figured.”
I walked over to get the jar of strawberry jam. “It looks like I’m not the only one burning the midnight oil.”
She sighed. “Yes, well, today was a total bust, so I thought maybe just a late-night sketch session would get the creative juices flowing.”
I raised a brow. “And did it?”
She gestured to her sketch pad. “Nope. I got nada.”
“So the jogging didn’t help?”
She chuckled. “The only thing that jog did was remind my body how to produce lactic acid. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be stiff as a board tomorrow and totally out of commission. So basically, I’ll get absolutely no painting done and I plan to blame you for it.”
I cut the sandwiches in half and handed her a plate. “It just means you should jog tomorrow. It will help with the recovery.”
She scoffed. “I plan to lounge in that dream bath that’s installed in my en suite.”
I felt myself smile. The image of her soaped up in my bathtub made me hard. “That’s another option.”
I stood as I ate my sandwich and Faith remained stationed on the counter taking a few small bites. “I can’t remember the last time I had a PB&J sandwich. Why the hell did I ever stop eating these?”
“They are a childhood staple for a reason.”
“One I forgot about, apparently,” she groaned. “I’ve been missing out.”
I pointed to the door. “Do you need me to leave you alone with your sandwich?”
Her smile made my heart beat quicker. My fingers itched to pull on that tie around her waist, opening up her silk robe and unwrapping her like a birthday present. I wanted to drag my nose along the column of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. The one that drove me wild and had me jerking off every time I showered.
“I think I can contain my excitement. Besides, sometimes it’s fun to watch,” she teased, and my pants grew even tighter.
